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Canada got the last hurrah at the Celebration of Light Saturday evening, closing the three-night event with a winning display. Canada was declared the winner of the event, with Brazil and China finishing second and third, respectively.

Palm Springs is pretty much perfect

Palm Springs is the perfect winter getaway destination for Canadians.

Photograph by: Handout photo
, Dick Sakowicz

The furrow in the brow, scrunching shoulders and squinting eyes say it all.

Wha ...? Is the only syllable to escape the mouth of my travel companion.

It bears repeating.

"I have never been on holiday in January."

The level of cognitive dissonance deepens as I explain I don't even own a suitcase.

My travels over the last 10 years have been contained to highways and waterways around British Columbia, requiring nothing more than a backpack, hiking boots and wet suit. That's about to change. Holiday time is tight this year, so this sojourn to a southern clime needs to be done over four days.

The only caveat from my travelling counterpart is it needs to be "hot," which rules out Northern California. Mexico is too far and Arizona not hot enough this time of year.

Palm Springs it is. However, to meet my threshold of adventure, this enterprise requires an infusion of precariousness. Enter the freeways of L.A. I have heard the tales of horror and woe about driving in L.A. and it doesn't take long for every nasty and aggressive instinct I have behind the wheel to surface as I battled the thicket of traffic on the San Bernardino freeway that leads to Palm Springs.

I owe my survival to a borrowed 2009 TomTom GPS unit. To pursue such an adventure by map would lead to great misadventure.

After an hour-and-a-half of driving chaos, we veer off the freeway toward Palm Springs.

Leaving the strip malls and warehouses behind, we transcend into a lunar-like landscape of dunes and razorback hills which only sprout sagebrush and giant wind turbines.

I notice we are the only vehicle with all the windows rolled down as we absorb the plethora of sun-baked vitamin D. Not two minutes passed the visitor's centre we find our first oasis - Dickie O'Neal's Irish Pub.

We had not been in the desert more than 30 minutes before we are overcome by an insatiable need to quench our thirst with the first libation of the trip - Guinness! While Dickie's staff gets a failing grade for pouring a decent pint, we wait the 10 minutes for our Guinness "float" to settle into something drinkable. The wait is worth it and second one goes down even quicker.

We are now officially in vacation mode. We wander through the downtown core to our weekend abode at the Viceroy, a mid-century marvel located in the heart of Palm Springs. Built in 1933 and modernized in the 2000s, the four-acre spread of the Viceroy provides an intimate sanctuary nestled at the foot of the San Jacinto mountain range.

It is simple and elegant with an underlying touch of mischief. If the walls of the Viceroy could talk, there would be more than a few sordid tales emerge as it was heralded as the playground for Hollywood elite.

My mind wanders back in time, thinking of Dean Martin and his Ratpack mates carousing through the courtyards in a search of another late-night scavenger hunt for trouble.

The closest we came to exemplifying Hollywood's bad-boy behaviour comes after an afternoon of poolside cocktails. Any thought of January chills are obliterated by a Caipirinha, a rare find featuring the Brazilian spirit cachaca.

It is followed by a gin-inspired Garden Cooler, which results in an emergency trip to Blue Wave, the local hookah bar (a "must" for my travel companion).

Great cocktails need to be accompanied by great food. During a poolside chat, we discover what is deemed the jewel of the Palm Springs culinary scene: Workshop.

A good 20-minute walk from our abode in the crisp fall-like air, we meander into the chic warehouse decor of Workshop.

It's a blend of modern and rural aesthetics, crisply fused into a contemporary environment that could easily reside in the heart of Vancouver's hip food district of Gastown. Dinner starts at the bar with a Matador, a white tequila cocktail backed stiffly by a serrano chili. It sets the tone for one of the top-five culinary experiences of my life.

It starts with the delicate and delectable octopus carpaccio followed by duck rillette, which is divine but perplexingly placed on a sweet waffle. What defines the dinner is the main, Mesquite-grilled pork chop on a bed of white yam purée and collard greens. The sides are sublime, but the Kurobuta pork is heavenly. Never has pork tasted so succulent and rich. Every bite fuses the depth of the subtle gamey pork flavour with moist tender meat.

While I enjoy lounging, libations and culinary delights, it's not a real holiday for me without a little outdoor adventure.

In Palm Springs, that is best exemplified at the top of the world a.k.a. the Aerial Tramway, which opens up the hiking trails to the San Jacinto state park. The rotating tram up the sheer cliffs of Chino Canyon delivers you to a perch more than 8,500 feet above Palm Springs.

While deep breaths in the thin air are hard to come by, the cost is minimal when you look out at the stunning vista that opens up hundreds of miles of desert and mountains.

An army of windmills march in perfect unison to the west while a seemingly mirage that is the Salton Sea can be seen to the northeast.

The Aerial tram leads to miles of trails in the state park, but after a few kilometres the realization comes quickly that thin air and Christmas lethargy has robbed us of motivation, so we set back.

Alas, while four days was enough to escape the dark and dreary month of January, the cold realization of home returns at YVR as we are greeted with chilly winds and 3 C, exactly 24 degrees colder than our winter interlude. Even though we may live in the California of Canada, it's a pale comparison to the feel of real summer-like heat.

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